


Up Close and Personal

by wordsonpages



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Love, Makeouts, Romance, Smut, bad boy/ good girl, serpent Jughead, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:42:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsonpages/pseuds/wordsonpages
Summary: One of his hands was curled into a fist, pressing against the metal just above her shoulder, while his other one was splayed out on the delicate skin of her throat, his grip strong enough to send trickles of fear running through her blood, but not tight enough to choke her. His dark features were twisted in a snarl and his breaths were coming out in pants. His body was pressed up against hers and the space between them was non-existent.Betty couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason now.They had never been this close before.





	1. Something new

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers,   
> so I have previously posted this on tumblr as a result of a prompt. However, popular demand turned this into a multi-part series that will have a 4th installment soon as well. I hope you enjoy it!

It was Monday morning and Betty Cooper was running late. Her converse squeaked slightly as she rushed down the hallway, her hands hastily pinning a stray hair back into place as the curls of her pony tail bounced with the hurried movements.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she mumbled as she noted the lack of students in the halls, checking her watch and letting out a groan with the realisation that homeroom had already begun.

Her hands clenched into fists, her nails grazing the skin of her palms she willed the pressure in her chest to dissipate. Her breathing was shallow and her stomach was in knots as her anxiety spiked.

_Locker first. No home room first. But you’re already late. Wait which is closer._

Her eyes darted around the hallway, when suddenly they landed on a dark figure turning the corner up ahead. She strained her gaze before her green orbs widened with realisation. She knew that dark figure. It was the beanie that gave him away, the same grey knitted cap he had worn ever since they met as children.

Suddenly the anxiety left her body, the impending panic attack halting as shock took its place. Her feet fused to the ground as her limbs seized with surprise.

Mere months ago his presence in the halls of Riverdale High wouldn’t have drawn such a reaction from her. But now as she took in his brooding demeanour, hands stuffed in his pockets, the black leather jacket she had become accustomed to seeing him in as of late switched out for an old denim one; she couldn’t help but stare. His brooding demeanour was the same as always, though his shoulders held a new tension.

_Jughead Jones._

Why had no one told her he was coming back today? She knew it was something she would not have forgotten.

A few months ago, after his dad’s arrest Jughead had moved in with a foster family on the Southside of town. His mum had already packed up and left a year before that, taking Jughead’s little sister with her and leaving her son to welt. The change of living arrangements had meant he had to transfer schools to Southside High.

It was a change that had shaken their group, the dynamic of the usual threesome- Betty, Archie and Jughead- irrevocably altered. The three of them had been best friends since childhood, always together.

Until they weren’t. Until Jughead was taken away and fell further into the throes of Southside life. The serpent’s had taken him under their wing, offered protection in the ever growing hostility of the town and the dark haired boy had started shutting himself off.

They still caught up for milkshakes at Pop’s and sometimes hung out at Archie’s house but it wasn’t the same. He had become more reserved, darkness shrouding his person in a way that it had always threatened to but never succeeded in until this year. He would show up in leather instead of plaid, converse gone and combat boots in their place, sometimes with errant bruises and cuts. His jaw was set in a new hard line, blue eyes taking on a harsher tint. He didn’t talk about his life- his real life- anymore, and only indulged them with medial details about school and his foster parents.

Betty hated it. She hated the changes and the fact she was helpless to fix them.

But then by some miracle, Fred Andrew’s after much trying had managed to get in contact with Jughead’s mum- something not even Jughead had been able to achieve- and convinced her to sign custody of her son over to him. He had moved in with the Andrews on the weekend, at least that’s what Archie had told her. But no one had mentioned his return to school.

Betty couldn’t help the wide grin that suddenly spread itself across her face the realisation that he was really there before her eyes, and that he was back, really back; things were finally retreating back into some semblance of normalcy and her heart felt a little lighter.

Her feet were moving again, the goal of catching him giving her a clear trajectory for her movements.

His slow, lethargic movements allowed her to catch up easily and Betty rolled her eyes at his laziness. Her hand reached out tugging on his sleeve as soon as she was within a step.

“Jug- ah!” Her greeting was immediately cut off and manufactured into a gasp by his quick movements, his body spinning quickly and making her dizzy as his hands turned her around and had her pushed up against a locker within seconds. One of his hands was curled into a fist, pressing against the metal just above her shoulder, while his other one was splayed out on the delicate skin of her throat, his grip strong enough to send trickles of fear running through her blood, but not tight enough to choke her. His dark features were twisted in a snarl and his breaths were coming out in pants. His body was pressed up against hers and the space between them was non-existent.

Betty couldn’t breathe for an entirely different reason now.   

They had never been this close before. The air was stuck in her lungs, refusing to make it way out. With the way he was pinning her against the locker with his body she could feel the hard planes of muscle he hid so well under his layers, contrasting perfectly with the soft curves of her own and sending warmth spreading throughout her veins. In the close proximity he had forced them into she found herself looking directly into his stormy blue eyes, his gaze dark and dangerous, far off and dazed. It sent sparks she had never experienced tripping down her spine, making her swallow nervously. Her every nerve was alight and she had the sudden urge to be _closer._

The hand against her throat was enticing the darkness within her; exciting and unknown. It was a feeling she keened toward, yearning to get lost in the power trip, to give up control. _God how had she never noticed how strong he was_? She wanted to submit.  The sharp angle of his jaw was striking and the way the light hit his face let her see the perfect symmetry of his dark features. _How had she never realised how handsome and well hot he was?_ Her thighs clenched unconscionably.

Suddenly Jughead pulled away slightly, seeming to realise himself and the intimate position they were in. His eyes widened in surprise as he removed the hand that was splayed against her pale throat and placed it on the other side of her against the locker. His head dropped for a moment, stray dark curl falling over his eyes when he looked up again; and god did it do _things_ to her- wicked things. Betty gulped again as he let out a loud exhale, his cool breath fanning her face and making her eyelids flutter closed briefly.

“Fuck, sorry Betts,” he apologised, sheepish grin on his face. Betty still couldn’t quite remember how to breathe merely nodding at his words, willing her heart beat to slow down. _What was happening to her?_ This was _Jughead_. Jughead who she had baths with when she was four, Jughead who used to tug her pony tail in the sand pit. Jughead who was her best friend.

Except suddenly he was **_Jughead_ ** who was invading her personal space and had effortlessly pinned her against the locker. He was **_Jughead_** who had grown up _hot_. He was **_Jughead_** who was a Serpent. He was **_Jughead_** who she wanted to pull her hair for a completely different reason.

The thought made her flush.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice broke her reverie as she awkwardly shuffled on the spot, trying to relieve the sudden tension she was feeling all over. How was he not fazed by this? _Because Elizabeth he’s clearly not having an excessive hormone trip that would make porn stars blush right now, unlike some people._

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, trying to not to visibly cringe at the breathy, tinge her voice had adopted.

He eyed her suspiciously, clearly not believing her. But before she could panic, and begin to think his brilliant mind had connected the dots and realised the reason for her dazed behaviour he spoke again.

“No really, I’m sorry if I scared you it’s just, being me and being here with everything going on in this town I have to watch my back,” he explained and Betty’s eyes widened with horror at the understanding. She felt guilt gnaw at her insides as he revealed something personal to her for what felt like the first time in forever, meanwhile all she could think about was whether she was more frustrated that people would actually try and attack him in the hallways of a high school or the fact that he thought she was _scared._

Finding a confidence within her that she was totally unaware she was capable of possessing, Betty steeled her nerve. The darkening of her green eyes not missed by Jughead in their close proximity. He swallowed in anticipation as a look of determination settled on her face; the same one that had been the epitome of innocence moments ago -flushed cheeks, wide eyes.

“I’m not scared of you Jughead,” she breathed, her voice low and his body became alight by her words. He would never have guessed girl next door, sweet Betty Cooper was capable of dictating such a sultry tone and the evidence made his stomach coil in excitement, his blue eyes darkening further. The meaning was not lost on him. The way she ever so slightly leaned toward him, still trapped in between the heat of his body and the cool metal of the lockers, confusing and further stimulating her sensitive skin.

Betty inhaled sharply as his gaze fell to her lips. Her breath bated in anticipation. Never in a million years had she thought she would be so desperate for someone to kiss her and especially not Jughead Jones of all people. But here she was pressed against a locker, trapped between his arms, dizzy and light headed from the faint smell of cigarettes and cologne that radiated from him, her fingers somehow ending up gripping the hem of his black t-shirt ever so slightly.

“Maybe you should be _Elizabeth_ ,” His tone low and sinful as his breath tickled her lips. She didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed briefly in a torturous show of self-deprecation, but not even a second later it was gone and he was back to the arousing, enigmatic picture.

She let out a whimper that would surely make her blush profusely later with the embarrassment of how wantonly, desperate she sounded; desperate for her best friend. He looked at her hard for another moment, almost searching before he seemed to find what he wanted. And then slowly, ever so slowly his lips pressed down to hers- a simple brush, light and teasing. Her heart stuttered erratically in her chest at the contact, her skin burning as if being set on fire by his touch.

Her gasp propelled him forward. His mouth pressed more deliberately and firmly against hers. Betty groaned, her hands forming tighter fists in the hem of his shirt as her body arched toward his. Jughead’s tongue pried her lips open before slipping inside the warm cavern of her mouth, stroking Betty’s own muscle sensually. Her breath hitched, and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. One of his hands came down from against the locker to settle on her hip as he stepped into her, pressing his body flush against her own as he pinned her more firmly to the structure behind them.

Their mouths opened wider, to accommodate the sinful tangling of tongues. It was hot and heavy attacking each other’s mouths ferociously. Lips swelling as teeth clashed. Her thighs clenched again as he sucked on her bottom lip, eliciting a low groan from her throat. Jughead revelled in the sound, his hips rolling into hers, as his teeth nipped lightly at that same luscious bottom lip. Betty threw her head back against the locker panting, her own hips jutting forward to find friction. _God he was a good kisser._ She felt drunk, dizzy and disorientated and she loved it.

But all too soon the moment was broken. The shrill ring of the bell shattered the spell of sexual tension, their blissful haze fading away just as his lips had begun to trail down the column of her neck.

“Fuck,” he swore right near her delicate ear at the interruption; the expletive on his lips in such a moment making her hips buck a little into his. Jughead let out a breathy chuckle as he detangled himself from her body. He stepped back and she suddenly felt cold and empty. It was disconcerting how much she craved his touch and she had only just had it, only just discovered it. He was like a drug, addictive and enlivening. She was high on him, but she wanted more.

Jughead let out a breathy chuckle at her dishevelled state. He leant down to their feet picking up her backpack. He handed it back to her, smirking at the frown set on her face in confusion; she took a few moments inspecting the bag before it clicked that it was hers, and why he had placed it in her hands.

Kids began flooding the halls and the sounds of teenagers talking and moving around in mundane routine muffled into white noise.

“To be continued,” he said, looking her directly in the eye, gaze heady and full of promise before he disappeared.

Betty let out a heavy breath, her limbs feeling shaky and her entire world feeling off kilter. Her head fell back against the metal again with a thud, her eyes falling shut as she scrubbed her face with her hands.

She had just gotten herself in big trouble. Because damn that boy could do talented things with his tongue and _damn_ did she really want to continue to see what else he could do.

 

 


	2. Continuations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only thing that needs to be said is SMUT

By the time lunch rolled around Betty liked to think she had regained her composure. After her little encounter- and by little she does not mean little because it was freakin _intense_ -with Jughead Jones Serpent addition in the hallway she had spent her morning thoroughly dazed and out of it.

She had been a flustered mess in her morning classes, caught out for day dreaming on multiple occasions. Her teachers had been shocked at her lack of attentiveness, something that was extremely unBetty. Same blonde girl sat in her same seat, dressed in the typical jeans and knitted sweater, yet her thoughts were on an entirely different trajectory than usual. Today her brain was clouded by a lustful haze subjected upon her by Jughead Jones. Said boy had seemingly taken great pleasure in her reprimand during English, shooting her a smirk that let her know he knew exactly what was preoccupying her thoughts. It was funny how not even a full day ago she would have associated thoughts of Jughead with concern and friendship. Yet now after getting up close and personal with the marvel that was his body, face and lips all she could think about was his touch and when she could have it again. Part of her brain shifted back and recognised that she had always been attracted to him- his sharp tongue and 50's bad boy looks- but she had never gotten close enough to indulge in that attraction until today. The thought made her stomach flutter with butterflies as she reeled back to his promise of "to be continued".

 The crisp air hit her cheeks as she and Veronica made their way to their normal lunch table by the track. Their conversation medial. The chill of the late autumn air was refreshing against her skin that was still slightly flushed from her whirlwind of a morning. Archie was already at the table and Betty sat down across from him.

 "Why didn't you tell me Jug was coming back today?" The blonde asked her long time neighbour, mostly curiously but a hint of offence lay beneath her words.

Archie's smile slipped from his face and was exchanged with a look of remorse.

"Sorry Betts, I was going to but Jug didn't want it to be a thing, and I figured he would tell you on his own."

Betty nodded, understanding her annoyance was misplaced mostly. She felt a slight pang of hurt that Jughead hadn't told her, after all he was one of her best friends- although she's not sure now that she knows what he tastes like if the word friend still applies- but knowing him as well as she did Betty recognised that he wasn't exactly the sharing type; especially not lately. As if on cue Jughead strolled up to the table, Kevin on his heels.

"Hey man, good to have you back!" Archie greeted enthusiastically as Jughead slid in on the bench to sit next to Betty.

 Her heart rate picked up at his closeness and she willed herself not to think about what his hand would feel like on her thigh right now.

 "Thanks pal," the dark haired boy returned, before turning his attention to his lunch.

 "Jughead this is Veronica, she moved here at the start of the year," Archie continued after a second, remembering the shifts in dynamics that had occurred in the small time that had passed since the school year started.

Jughead nodded at the raven haired girl, dressed to the nines with pearls completing her socialite look across from him. He had heard a lot about Veronica Lodge from Betty and Archie when they managed to catch up and even more about her father when he was with the gang, not that anyone at the table needed to know that.

"Jughead?" The New Yorker questioned, an eyebrow raised sceptically.

"Jones the Third" he drawled boredly in reply, already deciding befriending the princess would be a strain for him no matter how much his long-time friends seemed to like her. She was nice enough but they were juxtaposed completely.

 _Because you and Betty aren't_ a voice in his head mocked. And for a second he was fine with that voice believing it to be the sardonic humour challenging his friendship choices until he remembered the way said best friends soft curves had felt pressed against his hard body, the lushness of her lips against his chapped ones. Oh they were definitely a contrast but in the most wonderful way possible.

"What happened to the first two?" Veronica asked curiously, a small laugh leaving her perfectly painted lips.

"In jail," Jughead returned dryly without missing a beat.

The girl looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, choking on her sip of coffee which only made his smirk breed mirth. Betty elbowed him in the side while Archie just shook his head. It was the truth, they knew that but he got the feeling they were apprehensive of his treatment toward Veronica. The girl unsure whether to laugh or feel bad. Kevin on the other hand looked positively delighted with the scene unfolding.

 "Well, third times the charm right?" She recovered the way only a socialite from fine breeding could and Jughead actually cracked a slight smile at that.

 "I'm nothing if not charming."

 Betty snorted from her spot beside him and Jughead yanked her pony tail teasingly. Her green eyes flashed reminiscent of their earlier heated exchange and the desire for him to pull her hair under other circumstances reared again. When she looked toward him the teasing demeanour was still settled on his face but his eyes were a shade darker seeming to have picked up on her shift of thought. The tension between them slipped back into place and Jughead licked his lips before speaking again.

"Don't you think I'm charming Elizabeth?" He asked winking at her.

 Betty tried to will down the heat that rose to her cheeks at the gesture and quell the tingling low in her belly.

 "Your previous behaviour says otherwise Forsythe," she retaliated, trying to keep her composure as her mind slipped further into the memory of his hips rolling into hers in a way much too sinful to be charming.

 "What about my skilful tongue?" He asked innocently- according to anyone who wasn't her- eyes wide but smirk intact.

 Her breath hitched as she thought about the wonderfully wicked things she now knew he could do with that tongue. He purposely waited before continuing, revelling in her flustered state and darkening orbs.

 "I can turn a phrase impeccably."

 After that the conversation recessed back into medial chatter while Betty struggled to fight the growing need to drag Jughead behind a wall and ravish him. Her thighs rubbed together under the table. Yeah today was out to get her, purposely causing hell, using her hot best friend as the pawn. After lunch her unexpected desire became easier to ignore though. Jughead had strolled away from the table cigarette hanging from his lips, claiming he had reached his quota of "first day depression". Archie gave him an apprehensive once over but shrugged, saying he'd see him at home later. Betty didn't judge Jughead for ditching, it was a habit he had acquired long before the town went to shit and he began frequenting bars on the other side of town. He was smart and never had trouble catching up, but she also understood Archie's show of unease. They didn't know where or who he was meeting these days and that factor sent her into a tailspin of dread.

Betty had spent the rest of the afternoon, trying her best to pay attention in math and then thanking god for her free period in which she could lock herself away in the Blue and Gold office and let her imagination go as wild as it wanted to while she procrastinated her articles and blushed intently.

She was now laying across her pastel comforter in her much too pink bedroom. A text book in her hands as she tried in vain to concentrate on the words. No matter how much she willed herself to become absorbed in the study her mind just kept straying back to what she was now referring to as _“the incident”._

Betty groaned in frustration-mostly sexual- as her eyes slid shut. Images of Jughead instantly played behind her lids, dark hair falling across his eyes mysteriously, beanie enticing her to knock it to the floor and run her hands through the tresses. She thought about the way his muscles contracted as he pushed her against the locker, and the delicious stirring it had created deep within her core. She thought about the feeling of his teeth set on her lip and how in control he seemed. She never knew she wanted to relinquish control to anyone, give up her composure so badly until he had offered to take it from her. The thoughts made her dizzy and the ache between her thighs that had been distracting her all day throbbed yet again. Damn her hormones were persistent.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, eventually sitting up on her bed and grabbing her phone. She quickly pulled on her converse and headed for her window. It was time to pay the new boy next door- god was he a far cry from that though- a visit. Her lips tingled in anticipation and her thighs clenched with excitement.

Arriving at the Andrew’s Betty knocked on the door. Fred opened it with a look of pleasant surprise on his face; he had always had a soft spot for the bright young lady who kept his biological and surrogate son in line.

“Hey Betty, were we expecting you?” He greeted, confusion but not denial etched on his face. She shook her head.

“No sorry I actually just came over to see Jughead. Is he here?” she asked politely, suddenly nervous her trek had been misguided.

Fred stepped out of the threshold, gesturing for her to come in. Betty offered him her girl next door smile and shuffled into the home that always invaded her senses with warmth and comfort.

“No need to apologise, you know you’re always welcome over here. And he just got back from seeing some friends, I think he’s upstairs,” the older Andrew’s patted her shoulder before heading back to the couch, where Archie and a paused football game were waiting.

Betty’s face contorted in a frown and her eyes met Archie’s for a second. He nodded at her, confirming exactly which “friends” Jughead had been with. The blonde shook her head and sighed before kicking off her shoes and bounding up the stairs. As she approached the guest bedroom-now Jughead’s room- her nerves tangled and her heart pounded.

She steadied herself for a moment, hand poised on the door handle before her wanting got the better of her and she pushed into the room.

Nothing, however could have prepared her for the sight she was greeted with.

Betty’s jaw went slack and her hands curled into fists as her chest heaved. Across the room Jughead stood by his dresser in nothing but a white towel which was sitting low on his waist, giving her perfect exposure to his slim but well defined figure. His chest was well sculpted and he had definite abs, strong arms-those biceps- and a perfect V framed his hips and invited her to imagine where the lines led under the cloth.

She swallowed audibly feeling an intense blush rise across her entire body as her panties became damp. His hair was wet and free from the confines of the beanie, framing his face messily and making his smouldering gaze even more arousing.

For a split second Jughead’s face was a vision of shock, but that was merely fleeting. His composure quickly found him and a sexy, dangerous smirk appeared on his full lips.  His gaze locked on hers, heady and full of sexual intent as he took a deliberate step toward her.

Betty’s breath escaped her, body freezing in place as he came at her, his demeanour akin of a predator closing in its prey. The comparison sent sparks flying through her. The yearning to give in to him, to submit and let him control her spiral flared demandingly. He took another step, eyes raking her figure clad in only a pair of pyjama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Betty shifted under his gaze. She felt oddly empowered, yet incapable of moving all at once.

He took another step and as the space between them lessened the electricity in the air grew. It was crackling, sexual tension rife and enlivening. Betty licked her lips as he came within a step of her body, his eyes following the movement. She was practically panting now, her skin prickling with the memory of what he did to her.

Jughead halted when his figure was a fraction away from hers. His warmth radiated onto her and Betty’s eyes fluttered closed briefly. He was intoxicating.

The sardonic boy leaned into her , his face barely an inch from her own. His mouth hovered over her own pink lips as he spoke, not touching but almost…

“Ever heard of knocking,” he was teasing her. The dynamic a norm of theirs, although usually she would huff, shove him and retaliate with her own quip. But now in her state of arousal and enthrallment with him, Betty could only let out a stuttered gasp and chase his lips with her own.

Jughead however, wasn’t ready to relent. He pulled his head away slightly, chuckling low and gruff at her pout. He stepped further into her body, his hands finding her hips and pushing her back against the bedroom door. Betty’s breath hitched and her eyes searched his wantonly, darkening with lust and desire.

He took a moment to appraise her. Loving the fact that he had made “ _perfect_ ” Betty Cooper fall apart without even touching her yet. He basked in the sight of her, hair wild and falling out of her signature pony tail, eyes dark and sultry, lips open in a gasp, body hot and curving into his own.

Unable to deny her any longer, he pushed her more firmly against the door before capturing her lips with her own. Betty moaned at the contact her mouth opening for him immediately and offering him whatever he wanted to take. Her hips bucked up and her hands gripped his shoulders.

Jughead growled at her response and thrust his tongue into her mouth, skilfully moving it against her own and making her keen.

One of his hands moved around her body to grip her ass and Betty moaned at the feeling. Her head fell back against the door, eyes closed in pleasure. Jughead grinned and trailed his own now swollen lips across her neck, biting and sucking at the flesh, becoming more enthused with every breathy sigh and heady moan that fell from her usually modest mouth.

Betty’s own hands became less idle, trailing across his broad shoulders and down his chest, before settling on his abdomen, tracing patterns and revelling in the contraction of the muscles beneath her fingers.

“Juggie,” Betty gasped as he littered a purple bruise over her pulse point. Her hips ground against his wantonly. Jughead moaned as she grazed his hardening member, his hands dropping to her thighs and picking her up. Her long legs immediately wrapped around his waist, deliciously aligning her centre with his crotch making the friction even more unbearable. He could feel her wet and warm for him and the knowledge unleashed his primal initiative further.

Moving his lips back to hers their mouths met in a hungry kiss, desperate and ferocious.

Betty sucked in a sharp breath as he deposited her on the leaning over her and moving his hands to the hem of her shirt. He nodded furiously at him and Jughead needed no further prompting removing the garment. Her shorts followed and he sat up to eye her form hungrily with lust engaged eyes. Betty’s thighs rubbed together as the way he was looking at her sent a fresh wave of arousal flooding through her core. God she wanted him so badly.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathed sinfully in her ear and the sound of his lust infused voice mixed with the cuss made her arch her body toward his and whimper in desperation.

“Please,” she whispered as he settled over her, not quite touching and resting his weight on his forearms. Jughead’s blue orbs fell further into stormy indigo at the sound of her desperate voice. It was sexy as hell and he could hardly refuse her anything as she lay beneath him in lacy light blue panties and a matching bra.

“Please what?” he asked in mock innocence, as she shivered and ran her hands over the muscles of his back.

“Please touch me,” she affirmed her voice suddenly strong as she looked him dead in the eye. His self-control dissolved right there and his mouth was attacking hers again as she moaned, his hand finding her breast and roughly palming it before his finger slipped underneath to toy with her hardened peaks. Betty mewled and he made quick work of the bra clasp pulling it off her.

His mouth replaced his hands as he took a nipple between his teeth making her head fall back on the pillow and her lips part in a silent O.

His lean fingers trailed down her stomach next and came to rest against the lacy edge of her underwear, teasing the band. Betty almost wanted to cry in frustration.

She shifted her hips, pushing them up to make her desires clear. Jughead moved his fingers to the apex of her thighs and rubbed lightly over the underwear. A deep growl was emitted from deep in his chest as she fiercely ground her hips into his hand and choked on a whimper.

“God you’re so wet,” he groaned against her breast and Betty moaned at the filth falling from his sinful lips.

“Off please,” she managed to get out, her hips rocking more fervently as he teased her clit through the soaked fabric.

Jughead did as he was told, removing the destroyed garment and trailing his lips down her stomach. Betty’s eyes glossed over as she took in the purely erotic sight of him between her legs, her hips thrusting toward his face unashamedly. Jughead smirked against her inner thigh, his teeth nipping at the skin and evoking another whimper.

And then his tongue- the one she had been dreaming about all day- was on her and she all she could see was blinding light.

“Oh God Juggie!” she whined loudly as his lips worked over her most sensitive flesh. His tongue flicked against her sensitive bundle of nerves and her thighs clenched around his head as her fingers fisted in the sheets.

“Shutup,” he groaned against her dripping heat, aware that the walls would only muffle so much noise. Betty panted unable to respond while his tongue and lips kept up their sensual action and his teeth teased her clit.

She was fast becoming a mess of spluttered groans and whines, high pitched moans and pleas for more.

“Yes! Oh my god!” she cried as she neared her release, one hand forming a fist in his hair as her back arched perfectly and her head thrashed on the pillow.

And then it stopped.

Betty’s eyes opened, wide and dazed. She wanted to scream. He couldn’t just wind her up like that and then stop.

Jughead just looked down at her with a cocky smirk and raised brow.

“Something wrong?” he asked as his hands moved to the knot of his towel. Betty’s eyes followed his hands as her hips continued to grind unconsciously searching for friction.

Her brain was struggling to catch up, words a stretch when her nerves were a frazzled mess and her hormones were alight.  Her breath caught and she bit her lip as the towel fell away and she was greeted with the sight of his erection. It was hard and _big_.

“Please,” she whimpered again. Hands pulling at his hips, before he collected them in his strong grasp and held them hostage above her head.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded huskily over her lips. Betty panted, desperately searching for friction.

“You,” she groaned. Jughead shook his head, that evil smirk tormenting her body.

“Be more specific,” he pressed and Betty felt herself get even wetter at the implication of what he wanted her to say.

“Fuck me Jughead,” she moaned without hesitation, too far gone to care. She wanted him badly and she be damned if she had to wait any longer. Jughead let out a primal moan at the words and thrust into her hard and deep.

Betty’s eyes rolled back in her head at the action, her chest pressing firmly to his.

“Fuck Betts,” he breathed out, pulling out and thrusting into her again.

 “Faster,” she begged and moaned as he complied. Her hips began rising to meet his furious pace, each stroke taking him deeper within her.

“Oh god!” she moaned as he hit that nirvana inside her, his hand coming down to rub her clit furiously as she writhed.

Jughead moved his other hand to free her wrists-her own immediately tangling in his dark hair- and hitched her leg over his shoulder to move harder and deeper.

“Fuck Jug!” she cried out, her inner muscles contracting as she hit her high, dragging him over the edge with her.

Jughead rolled off her body, the pair a panting, sweating heap.

“Damn,” he breathed after a moment, his head shaking incredulously.

“You can say that again,” Betty agreed as each of them tried to process what the fuck had happened between them over the last 24 hours.

 

 

 


	3. Something More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long and by far my favourite so far. There is some heavy makeouts and slight smut i guess but no real action sorry! I was going to include it but it felt forced by the end of the chapter so i will be adding a fourth and final part that will definitely include some smuttiness for those who feel cheated haha x

 “Do you know if Jughead’s going to Cheryl’s party?”

Betty’s eyes widened at the implications behind Veronica’s deliberately flippant words. She blanched as her thoughts whirred messily around her brain.

“B?” her dark haired counterpart, nudged her side.

Shaking her head to regain coherent thought, Betty looked over at her best friend.

“Uh I’m not sure, sorry,” she answered, green eyes scrutinising Veronica’s face.

They continued walking for a moment, the air between them silent while the hallways filled with white noise of slamming lockers, and medial teenage chatter.

Stealing her nerve, Betty decided to further engage the topic. She was a little unsettled by the nausea bubbling in her stomach and the bile in her mouth at the thought of Veronica pursuing Jughead. It wasn’t like he was hers- she didn’t have a claim on him. But they were… something.

“Is there a reason you’re asking V?”

Veronica paused and then turned to face her with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched in a way that suggested mischievous intent.

“Just that if he _was_ going, I thought I might make a special effort to extend my hospitality. I mean being new is difficult, I would know.”

Betty rolled her eyes. Usually her friend’s cleverly crafted words that basically translated to looking for a new male conquest would entertain her. However, the subject matter it was directed at only served to ignite a green fire within her.

“Veronica he was a student here before you and only transferred to Southside for a few months,” Betty pointed out dryly. “Admit it- you just want to get in his pants.”

Veronica gasped dramatically, though her eyes were shining and Betty knew she wasn’t really offended.

“Can you blame me? He’s hot. How come you never mentioned you grew up with this generation’s James Dean as part of your golden trio?”

Betty bit her lip. She knew he was hot. God she knew it a lot better than Veronica did. She had seen the abs beneath his flannels and black t-shirts. She had seen his hair wild and beanie-less, after it had been thoroughly tugged by her own hands. She had seen his eyes darkened with lust and heard the low tenor of his voice in the throes of passion. And now would probably be the perfect time to mention that she knew all of this. But for some reason the words wouldn’t come.

Whatever it was she and Jughead were doing- and god were they doing it a lot- they hadn’t really talked about it. It was just a thing. A thing that was good. A thing that was just between them. A thing she didn’t know if he would want to be disclosed to the public. A thing that was so wonderfully simple yet so damn complicated at the same time.

“What are you wearing to the party anyway?” Betty asked deciding a change of subject was much safer territory yet staying on topic enough to not be suspicious.

“Well I just got the hottest outfit online-“Veronica began before her eyes widened and her mouth immediately clamped shut. “Speak of the outrageously attractive devil.”

Betty looked at her in confusion, but just as she opened her mouth to question what the raven haired girl was on about a strong hand reached out to grab her wrist. Electricity sparked beneath her skin, alighting her whole body.

“Sorry, Betty can I borrow you for a sec?” Jughead’s deep voice spoke confidently, leaving no room for objection. His blue eyes peered down at her piercingly, making her breath catch in her throat.

“Yeah, V I’ll see you later,” the blonde quickly dismissed tearing her eyes away from Jughead’s for a moment before turning around to follow him down the crowded halls.

His strong grip didn’t falter as he almost dragged her to the Blue and Gold “office”. His determined steps and focussed gaze made Betty’s stomach flip with anticipation. She recognised that look and her pulse was beating frantically at the ideas it conjured within her mind.

Within seconds of reaching their destination Jughead had Betty backed up against the door, the lock clicked into place and his mouth was on hers.

She gasped at the passionate attack, her hands fisting in his shirt as his body pressed up against hers. He smelt faintly of cigarette smoke and spice and that combined with the way his mouth was slanting hotly over hers was affecting her like a sedative, making her knees weak and her brain fuzzy.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she gladly opened her mouth wider. Her own tongue moved to dance with his, stroking erotically while she pressed herself impossibly closer to his warm body. One of his hands was pressed against the door next to her head caging her in while the other was making an arousing trek from her hip to her ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of her breast through her sweater.

“Mm Jug,” she mumbled when his mouth broke away from hers to trace sinfully down her neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin as her hips rocked into his own.

Betty could feel his smirk against her skin. Not to be outdone she hitched a leg up around his hip and grinded against the growing hardness beneath his jeans.

Jughead let out a low sound akin to a growl and slipped both his hands into her back pockets squeezing firmly as his mouth once again found hers. They languidly entertained the passionate push and pull of lips as she tugged on his dark locks, displacing the beanie from his head. Without warning Jughead moved his hands out of her pockets and onto her thighs to lift her. Instinctively her legs wrapped around his hips and they let out simultaneous groans as the change of angle aligned their centres more acutely. He could feel the heat of her wanting through her jeans at it made his kisses all the more aggressive.

Their mouths synchronised to the frantic movement of their hips as they devoured one another. Betty felt hot all over as she let herself be consumed by Jughead. It was so unlike her- or rather the her that she had to be at school- to do something so scandalous; like make out furiously with a newly minted Southside Serpent who wasn’t even officially her boyfriend in the news room.

The danger only excited her further. A particularly well angled push of his hips forward caused her to break away with a heavy pant and her head fell back against the door with an audible thump.

“Hi,” Jughead murmured, warm breath fanning her face while his darkened blue gaze consumed her with heat.

“Hey,” she breathed back, willing her racing heart to calm while trying to ignore her desperate need for friction with the way he was still holding her and they were still pressed together.

“So this is what you needed me for?” Betty teased lightly. Her chest contracted at the twinkle in his eyes and the sly smile he offered her.

“You don’t seem to be complaining.” Jughead punctuated his words by grinding his hips against hers and moving his hand up to cup her breast firmly. Betty whimpered at the feeling, eyes falling shut.

“Definitely not, just wondering what brought on this sudden need.” Her mouth was working its way along his jawline now tantalisingly.

“Those jeans,” he moaned as he moved his head so that she could have better access to his skin.

Betty’s wicked smile against his pulse point quickly turned into a breathy laugh as he quickly gripped her tight and moved so that she was perched on a desk and he was standing between her thighs.

“I have a feeling they’ll look much better on the floor though.”

* * *

 

“Betty when did you get so good at this? Actually scratch that- when the hell did you even learn how to play?” Archie asked incredulously as he dropped his game controller on the ground next to him. 

Betty laughed from her place on the couch her long legs sprawled across Jughead’s lap. She shrugged modestly, placing her own controller to the side.

“Juggie taught me.”

Said boy looked over at her fondly, one of his arms resting on the back of the couch. Her fingers itched to reach up and lace with his.

Archie glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“When was this?”

Jughead raised a brow at the red-head. “You’re not always here you know,” he deadpanned.

It was true, Archie and Jughead alternated shifts helping Fred at the construction site and on top of that Archie had football practice and music lessons, leaving an empty house. And often Betty would come over and keep Jughead company while the house was in such a state. She tried to fight off the blush that was rising rapidly to her cheeks at the thought of all the explicit things they did while no one else was home-and sometimes while they were. Though at the mention of it, she realised that for as much time as they spent making out and having sex since that first time, her and Jughead had begun to do a lot of other medial things while hanging out alone too; such as him teaching her to play videogames.

Archie nodded.

“I didn’t realise you two were spending so much time together,” his tone was not unfriendly or accusatory, but the way his gaze narrowed in on Jughead’s hand stroking the smooth skin of her calf did not go unnoticed by either party.

“Yeah well,” Betty articulated awkwardly, making a non-committal gesture with her hand before redirecting it to smooth back loose strands of hair falling from her pony tail.

A heavy silence fell over them.

Suddenly a shrill buzzing broke through the air, Jughead’s phone on the coffee table vibrating with it.

The dark haired boy sighed before picking it up.

“Yeah?” He answered, voice reserved.

There was mumbling on the other end.

“Okay be right there.” He hung up abruptly and then proceeded to gently shift Betty’s legs off of his lap, rising from the couch.

“I gotta go.”

“What where?” Betty sat upright, worry filling her veins in an icy fashion.

“I just have to go,” Jughead threw over his shoulder, his voice a dark warning to not press the issue as he walked toward the front door, only pausing to throw a specific leather jacket over his shoulders. Usually he wouldn’t leave it out in the open, but Fred was in Chicago for the weekend finalising some paperwork for the divorce.

Betty frowned, shrinking back at his shortness.

“Jug-“ Archie began only to be interrupted.

“Don’t wait up.” The door slammed shut behind him, leaving a thick tension hanging in the air, dwarfing the previous awkwardness all together.

“Shit,” Archie sighed, running a frustrated hand over his face.

Betty fell back against the cushions. She had to admit seeing him in that jacket did things to her; dirty sinful things. But the ache between her legs and the fire in her belly was instantly quelled by the anxiety growing in her chest. She hated when he did that. She hated when he was with them. She understood to a degree that the Serpent’s were like the family he didn’t have- they were there picking up broken pieces left behind by an imprisoned father and runaway mother- but it didn’t mean she liked the idea of him sneaking out into the night to participate in gang related activities.

“I hate it when he does that. I can’t relax,” she admitted after a minute, turning to look at Archie.

Her long time neighbour nodded solemnly before fixing her with an intuitive gaze.

“He’s our friend Arch.” Betty prayed her voice was convincing.

“And there’s nothing going on between you guys?” He pried.

Betty rolled her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat lying always caused.

“What else would we be?”

“I don’t know but you looked awfully cosy a moment ago and it sounds like you’ve been spending a lot of time together lately….” Archie continued, cautiously.

“Like I said we’re friends.”

 _Friends_.

The word echoed in her brain almost tauntingly. They were friends. And really they hadn’t spoken about being anything other than that. Sure she didn’t fuck her other friends or spend her time thinking about when she could next get them out of their clothes, or how their hands felt gliding over her skin, or whispering naughty things in her ear. But they were friends and neither one of them had extended an olive branch suggesting they wanted to be anything other than that besides the physical aspect of things.

So why did the title suddenly leave an ache in her chest?

* * *

 

Two days later she discovered why.

It was Sunday afternoon. Betty had gone over to the Andrew’s after church, telling her parents she was going to Kevin’s to work on a history project, and therefore, wouldn’t be joining them for brunch. She could only imagine her mother’s reaction if she found out she was actually next door lying in bed with Jughead Jones, wearing nothing but his flannel after engaging in some serious sinning and eating some overly sugared cereal  straight from the box.

Jughead was propped up against his head board, clad in only a pair of black boxers, legs stretched out and arms folded behind his head, while she sat next crossed legged next to him.

“Shakespeare or Hemingway?” Betty asked, through a mouth full of Lucky charms.

Jughead scrunched up his face at her in mock disgust to which she just opened her mouth wider.

“You’re gross,” he commented sardonically.

“Says the guy who once ate ten burgers in one sitting. Answer the question.”

“Hemingway. Cats or Dogs?”

Betty snorted at which Jughead quirked a questioning eyebrow, reaching into the cereal box himself.

“Deep.”

“We’re playing ‘This or That’ Betts, it’s not exactly a game of intellect,” He retorted, his hand retreating from depositing the food in his mouth and coming to rest on her thigh, fingers idly stroking the skin.

“Both,” she finally decided with a grin. “Food or sex?”

Jughead’s eyes flashed wickedly, but before she had a chance to become concerned his hands reached out to grab her by the waist, pulling her over his body so that she was straddling his hips. Betty squealed at the action, one hand clutching the box while the other rested on his deliciously bare chest.

“Both,” Jughead smirked at her, eyes raking over her playfully. “Actually right now is perfect.”

Betty laughed, revelling in this playful side of him so few got to see and rarely even her in the past few months. Shaking her head she placed the box down beside them, bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder.

“Shut up,” she breathed, smile not leaving her face as one of his hands carded through her blonde curls, pushing the wild tresses off her shoulder; his other stroked lazy patters against her hip.

Leaning forward his lips hovered over hers for a moment before they came down in a soft kiss. It was unlike their others. This was… tender. It was lazy and sweet, not passionate and full of lust. Yet it still took her breath away as his lips delicately coaxed hers into an intoxicating push and pull. The hand on her hip trailed down her thigh and then back up, his fingers warming the bare skin where his shirt had ridden up on her in their current position. What took her by surprise though was that his movements didn’t radiate with sexual intent like they usually did when they ended up in a position like this. Rather it felt oddly intimate in a completely new way.

And that’s when she realised the ache in her chest was asking for more. It was asking for this. This domesticity, this blissful peace.  Betty found herself a little off kilter with the realisation.

Breaking apart his forehead rested against hers. A lazy smile on his lips, while her hands pushed his ebony locks away from his forehead.

“Juggie,” she whispered, as his eyes fluttered open. They were startlingly blue and her heart skipped a beat.

“Hmm?” he sighed contently, hand still making those treacherous movements on her skin.

“What are we doing?”

He went rigid beneath her hands, his own freezing in place.

“What do you mean?” His voice was soft still but suddenly guarded and Betty swallowed down a lump in her throat.

“I mean this. You and me. What are we doing?” Her green eyes searched his pleadingly. She needed to be grounded, she needed to find somewhere safe to land.

Silence.

She held her breath.

“I don’t know Betts,” he sighed finally, his jaw tense.

Betty felt her heart sink a little, though she couldn’t blame him. She was just as lost. She didn’t know what she was hoping for subconsciously, but it was more than that.

“Okay.”

* * *

 

“Juggie, **”** Betty answered a suggestive lilt in her voice; after all it was 12am on a Saturday night, what else would he be calling for?

The other end of the line remained silent and her face scrunched in confusion.

A sharp, staggering breath and a wheezing cough made her chest squeeze uncomfortably.

Something was off.

“Jughead?” she tried again, barely managing to keep the panic out of her tone, while she mustered her best authoritative voice.

“Hey Betts,” his gravelly voice finally spoke.

The blonde shot up in her bed, the anxiety she was trying to keep at bay rapidly encroaching upon her body. He sounded weak and in pain. His words had come out almost as a groan and she could’ve sworn she heard a wince, even though she knew he had mostly pulled away from the speaker so that she wouldn’t.

“What’s going on?” Betty pleaded, doing her best to remain calm and not get caught up in the plethora of horrible situations that were running through her brain that would have ended with him in a state of pain.

“Everything’s fine okay.” Jughead tried to placate obviously picking up on her growing worry, though the sharp inhale mid-sentence did nothing to quell her fear.

“Bullshit,” she spat back at him, her anger ignited by that fear and growing.

Jughead sighed and this time she was sure she heard a wince.

“There may have been a slight motorcycle accident. And I may need you to come and pick me up.”

“An accident,” Betty repeated as her free hand clenched into a tight fist at the image her brain concocted of his mangled body, black leather scraping across asphalt. Her nails scraped against her skin.

“Yeah… Betty I’m fine but my bikes not exactly rideable otherwise I wouldn’t be asking. And I know your parents are probably gonna kill you and I’m sorry I just don’t have anyone else to call,” He rambled while the sounds of uncomfortable shifting echoed in the background, leaking through the speaker. 

Betty’s chest ached at the reminder of his hardship, while butterflies swarmed in her stomach at the knowledge he had called her. That even when everyone else was disappearing from his life, he trusted that he had her and that she would show up.

Both emotions were quickly subdued though as he grunted and worry crashed over her again like an ice cold wave.

“Where are you?”

“On the Southside, just over the border,” Jughead relayed cautiously, though Betty wasn’t shocked by the revelation.

“Okay I’m coming.”

 **Betty** spent the entire drive to the Southside clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. She couldn’t think clearly, her mind was a mess and her skin felt much too small for her body. Her clothes were suffocating, and her rational mind thanked god for the warm weather, as she could get away with just her sleep shorts and t-shirt without catching her death. 

The worry and anxiety was eating her alive. All she could think about was Jughead and how badly bruised he would be when she saw him. She was terrified. And it was that trepidation that made her terrified for a completely new reason. Because this wasn’t the kind of fear someone felt for a “just friend”. This was the kind of fear that made you literally ill. The kind of paralysing worry that kept you up at night and made you feel like the earth was caving in. And she was feeling it now for Jughead. It terrified her to think about how deep she had fallen into this thing with him. It terrified her to realise how much her own existence had become entwined with his. And they weren’t even together.

After what felt like forever but was barely a twenty minute drive at this time of night Betty was crossing the border that separated the North and South sides of Riverdale.  She kept her hands steady on the wheel while her eyes darted around nervously, searching for Jughead. After another few minutes, she spotted him down the road just past the highway entrance.

Her breath came out choppy as she took him in slumped against a tree trunk, his mangled bike a few feet away. It was completely wrecked. But from her place in the car, cloaked in darkness bar the headlights she couldn’t make out his injuries.

Pulling over she scrambled out of the car, fighting off the bile bubbling up her throat.

“Juggie!” she cried frantically, running over to him.

Jughead looked up, and staggered to his feet biting back a wince. She reached him quickly. They stood inches apart, heavy breathing filling the air between them. There was a rip in the thigh of his jeans, dried blood visible there and on his hands. Yet, despite the site making her cringe with worry, she felt like she could finally breathe again in his presence, her heart hammering against her chest, but not feeling quite so cracked anymore.

Betty’s eyes were wild and searched for his. Jughead however, had his head cast down and wouldn’t look at her properly.

“Jug,” she whispered gently, her hand resting gently on his cheek to pry his head up.

Reluctantly Jughead raised his head to look at her, his eyes devastatingly blue yet distant, jet black hair falling over them, while dried blood caked his forehead. Betty gasped though as she took in his whole face and realised his right eye was bruised and swelling, while a cut decorated his cheek bone just below.

Her hand gripped his cheek more firmly and Jughead let her tilt his head to the side to inspect better. He knew the look on her face was one of pure determination and not to be messed with. Because Betty wasn’t just worried now, she wasn’t just scared. She was really fucking angry, though he wasn’t yet sure if it was with him for lying or not.

Her brows were creased and her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as her vibrant eyes scrutinised his face.

Meeting his eyes again, some of the fire in her own seemed to diminish. Stroking his cheek tenderly Betty let out a sigh.

“You said it was an accident,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied cautiously, placing his large hand on top of her delicate one where it rested against his cheek.

“You lied.”

He let out a shaky breath, swallowing his pain.

“Not here,” he whispered meaningfully nodding toward where her car was parked.

Betty looked like she wanted to protest but nodded stepping back from him and taking slow steps toward the vehicle. She didn’t ask if he was okay, she knew he wasn’t but he would say he was.

Jughead’s hand reached out suddenly to grab her own, halting her movement. He inhaled sharply as the sudden bend caused the burn in his side to flare obnoxiously. Betty’s face contorted with concern as she gripped his hand back tightly.

“Thank you,” he said lowly, the sincerity behind the words and the earnest look on his face making her chest contract and her stomach flip.

“Of course,” she replied with equal conviction and the air felt thick around them for reasons more than the humid night.

Helping him into the car she quickly rounded on her own side, and turned the ignition.

“Home?” she asked, looking over to where he was sprawled against the passenger seat eyes closed.

“Yeah, but not the one you’re thinking.”

A short while later they pulled up outside his dad’s old trailer. The air was eerie as the engine cut out, the night still, bar a few resounding echoes of parties and drunken yelling in the distance.

Betty unbuckled her seat belt and quickly moved round to the other side of the car to help Jughead. He was already out of his seat and closing the door when she rounded on him. He refused to let her help him inside insisting he was okay, but his limping gate and stuttering breaths propelled her to wrap an arm around his waist anyway.

Digging into a flower pot he produced a spare key and unlocked the door.

She flicked the light switch and helped him to a chair by the small kitchen while the lights buzzed bathing the room in a dim yellow glow.

“First aid kit?” Betty asked tying her hair back out of her face.

“Betty you don’t-“Jughead began to protest but the pointed look she shot him made it clear any objection was futile.

“Cupboard above the sink,” he sighed nodding toward the kitchen.

Betty turned on her heel, quickly moving to the disclosed location. She didn’t let her eyes linger on the small signs that somebody lived here, or rather once did. Technically it was still Jughead’s dad’s home, but he was in prison and it was uninhabited. It was as if they were in a museum. Left exactly as it had been, untouched, fossilised. It caused a shiver to run down her spine, but she quickly ignored that and the heartache she was feeling all over again at the reminders of a harsh life lived by an undeserving boy.

Rising up on her tip toes she was able to reach the first aid kit. She then grabbed a clean looking dish towel from the bench and ran it under the tap before she returned to Jughead.

Sitting down in the chair next to him Betty began sorting through the contents of the plastic box. Despite feeling somewhere between hellish and dead Jughead couldn’t help but smirk a little at the way her brows furrowed in concentration as she pulled out some alcohol swabs, gauze and bandages inspecting each.

“Satisfied Doctor Cooper?”

Betty looked up from her task, a small smile playing on her lips at his teasing. The mirth in his voice and eyes was reassuring but the visual of his injuries quickly sent her back into nurse mode.

Raking her eyes over his form from his cut and bruised face to where he was clearly gripping his side in pain to the open gash across his thigh, Betty tried to weigh up the best course of action.

“Can you take your clothes off?”

Jughead’s smirk widened, raising his eyebrows at her. He opened his mouth to make another witty remark but Betty wasn’t in the mood for teasing, she was emotionally exhausted and worried, and upset and she didn’t have it in her to pretend everything was fine right now; it wasn’t.

Jughead must have sensed her intolerance because he quickly shut his mouth and stood carefully. Slowly he removed his leather jacket, his t-shirt following closely behind, before undoing his jeans and leaning his weight on the back of the chair to step out of them.

Betty sucked in a breath. As much as she wasn’t in the mood for teasing and their usual flirtatious banter she couldn’t help her bodies response to his well-toned one clad only in a pair of boxers. She felt hot, thighs squeezing as she licked her lips unconsciously. If Jughead noticed he didn’t comment.

Her focus was quickly returned though as she could now take in the full extent of his harm. The cut on his thigh wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought. While there was a fair amount of blood surrounding the damaged skin there didn’t seem to be much asphalt stuck in the wound and she didn’t think it would take too long to clean. The removal of his shirt revealed some more minor scratches up his arms and on his chest. However it was the large bruise developing on his side that made her stomach churn with nausea. Almost the entire left side of his torso was starting to become stained in a deep purple colour. Just like the black eye and cut on his cheek, she couldn’t conceive how that would logically be caused by a bike accident.

Biting back a sob Betty set to work cleaning the wound on his leg, hoping her down cast head wouldn’t allow him to see the tears springing to her eyes.

The already stale air of the trailer grew thick as silence cloaked them bar the sounds of Betty fiddling with something every few minutes and Jughead’s sharp intakes of breath of small winces as she cleaned out his wound.

By the time she finished patching up the gash on his leg Betty felt like she was going to combust with frustration and curiosity. She had tried not to dwell on the unknown reality of whatever had led them here tonight but she couldn’t. She was never good with patience or subtlety.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell happened?” Her voice was horse with disuse.

Jughead’s eyes followed her movement as she dragged her chair closer, the noise splitting in the empty air. His eyes found hers as she reached up gently to clean the dried blood from his forehead and cheek. Seeming to lose any resolve he had to keep the information private at the evident distress shining in Betty’s orbs, Jughead nodded.

“I was riding home from the bar. A car starts approaching on the other side of the road, nothing out of the ordinary- though I must admit it was a bit odd for a car that nice to be coming from North to South so I should’ve realised,” He kept his eyes straight ahead, his voice even.

Betty’s hand stilled, bringing the cloth away from his face as she listened intently. She worried her lip beneath her teeth at the implications. His pause, complimented by side eyeing her, made her quickly gesture for him to continue though as she did the same with her own task.

“So before I know what’s happening, this car swerves to my side of the road, I managed to avoid most of the impact but they got the back of my bike. Next thing I know I’m on the ground and the bike spinning out. Then these two guys get out the car, both of them wearing letterman jackets.”

She’s not even pretending to focus on his injuries now. Her eyes are wide, one hand clenched into a fist on the table top while the other still rests on the side of his face. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she feels the rage and panic well inside her.

“Bulldogs?” Betty manages to choke out.

Jughead nods once; curt.

“So they come at me. One starts kicking me in the side, yelling shit while the other just watches, egging him on like he’s some kind of fucking hero,” his tone is harder now, his eyes darker and she sees the dangerous steel she saw his first day back when he pushed her up against the locker and had a hand wrapped around her throat. The gang member in him coming out, looking to fight back, to protect.

Her hand trails down his neck, over the planes of his chest to where his side is painted in dark colours all on its own. Her fingers trace patters over the smooth skin gently, her breath hitched. His gaze follows the movement, just watching for a moment, a slight frown on his face. But he doesn’t ask her to stop.

“Eventually I managed to roll onto my back, and pull his legs out from under him. So now we’re both on the ground and I knew he would probably start throwing punches. He does, a good one too, thus, the black eye,” Jughead drawls sardonically.

Betty is not deterred though, the rage inside her flickering like a candle as she becomes immersed in his story telling. He’s captivating, the far off look in his eye as the events play over in his mind, the way his jaw clenches, the way his skin battered and bruised is illuminated in the dull lighting, the sharp angles of his body. She was enthralled.  

“I got some in too, but I mean they fucking hit me with their car, so it wasn’t much of an even fight and my body felt like it was on fire so…” he trailed off, his head ducking as if it’s suddenly too hard to look at her.

“So?” Betty prompts, she refuses to be left hanging like that.

Jughead sighs, long and deep.

“So I pull the knife out from my jacket. Scared the shit out of him and they take off, not before reversing back into my bike though.”

He looks up, black hair falling temptingly over his eyes which are somehow vulnerable and guarded all at once. He’s anxious Betty realised. He’s anxious as to how she’s going to react. He’s afraid he’s going to scare her.

“I meant it when I said I wasn’t scared of you Jug,” Betty’s voice is quiet but strong as her hand stills against his side.

Jughead doesn’t say anything for a moment and the silence stretches been them. Eventually he shakes his head and then looks at her with such a broken expression she wants to cry.

“Maybe you should be.” He gets up then, not so carefully removing her hand from his abdomen and begins to pace. His gate is awkward with his slight limp and his hands are tugging at his hair. His face is dark now, the vulnerability she saw a moment ago washed away by an inner demon she doesn’t know.

He moved so quickly like her touch was burning him and then she’s burning inside. Angry.

“What the hell does that mean? If anything right now I’m scared _for_ you!” she seethes, arms crossing tightly over her chest as she appraises him with narrowed eyes.

“It means I’m toxic, and it’s worse now, on the North side I’m like a poison!” Jughead combatted, his flames meeting Betty’s own head on as she rose to her feet.

Her voice had risen an octave higher when she speaks again, exasperated.

“It’s this town that’s toxic Jughead. And I don’t care how everyone else treats you. I’ve never felt more liberated from all of the suffocating bullshit than when I’m with you. So screw them-“

“And what if I’m scared?” Jughead cut her off abruptly, his words imploring her. They were stark. His voice wasn’t loud like it had been moments ago, but rather low and almost sinister.  

Betty felt her own anger dissipate a little with the shift in dynamic. Her fury dying, as she took a step closer to him, green eyes still homing a hard tint.

“Scared of me? I’m not just going to up and leave when things get hard and dark like your mum did.”

Her heart’s pounding erratically. Something has shifted, she feels it in her chest building like an ache but sweeter, she feels it in the air, thick and tense. She feels dizzy from the complicated circles they’ve been spinning in all evening, her emotions short circuiting at the rapid changes being demanded. Their broaching sacred ground here, the unspoken words finally taking verbal shape and it’s terrifying and thrilling simultaneously.

“That’s exactly why I’m scared. You saw what happened to me tonight Betty. What if you stay and something like that happens to you? I couldn’t live with myself.”

It’s Jughead’s turn to step closer now. The earnest tone of his voice makes her lungs malfunction and her heart stutter. She’s not used to seeing him this raw. He doesn’t look vulnerable though, rather he looks powerful; a force to be reckoned with as he closes in on her personal space, until there’s barely a breath between them.

She feels the heat radiating from his body and the hairs on her arms are standing on end. Goose bumps are breaking out across her skin, and his breath on her face is making her dizzy. But the flame inside her is still begging to exacerbate, so she meets his eyes letting their gazes drown one another in an ocean pool of blue and green before speaking.

“Well I don’t think I can live without you anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, and she holds her breath while it sits in the space between them. She doesn’t look away though, she won’t back down. Her feelings being publicised to him was a ticking time bomb anyway.

Jughead doesn’t say anything for a moment-a long moment- and she can see the war raging within him. His eyes give away his inner conflict, and he looks almost pained.

But then his hands are cupping her face and pulling her lips to his and everything else disappears. The anger, the frustration, the confusion, the pain, it all evaporates into the air and now it’s just them standing in the middle of an old dimly lit trailer, him practically naked, her clad in pyjamas, kissing in the early hours of the morning.

Jughead’s lips are demanding on hers, coaxing them into a passionate rhythm as her arms wrap themselves around his neck, her hands tangling in his hair. This kiss feels different to the previous ones they’ve shared. It holds the same want, the same passion, the same fire and ache for one another but somehow feels more intense, more important. It dawns on Betty that this is exactly what it is- more.  And god did she like _more._

As Jughead’s tongue slips into her mouth and erotically strokes against her own she pushes herself onto her tip toes and presses her body closer. His hands thread through her hair, pulling the loose ponytail out and angling her head where he wants it, demanding more and getting exactly that. The way the minty taste of her mouth mixes with the sweet one of his [in the back of her mind she recognises it as the coke he was probably drinking earlier] is intoxicating and she whimpers when he nips at her bottom lip.

They break apart when the need for air becomes vital both breathing heavily. His breath stutters more than hers does and Betty’s lust induced smile quickly morphs into a frown when she notes the grimace on his features. She moves to back away immediately, afraid she’s hurt him but Jughead doesn’t let her get far his arms wrapping securely around her waist to keep her body against his.

“Be mine,” he whispers into her ear, lips pressing gently to her neck just below.

She sucks in a harsh breath completely unprepared for those words to fall from his mouth. Jughead pulls back slightly, his expression unfaltering but so completely open and honest she feels like her heart might just explode. Betty doesn’t hesitate to raise a hand to cup his cheek and press her forehead to his.

“Oh Juggie, I already am.”

He kissed her again.

 

 


	4. blissful aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as promised here is another chapter! This is pretty much just fluff and smut so i do apologise to those who wanted to see how everyone else reacted to them being together. However, this story is not definitively over and if the inspiration strikes I may add another chapter exploring that idea. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think xx
> 
> PS. I have just created an instagram account for poetry, quotes, musings etc. so if you like my writing and are interested in checking out some more in a different format the handle is @musings_of_a_young_mind

Betty awoke to soft light streaming through the crack in the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow inviting feelings of contentment. The mattress beneath her was lumpy and the sheets were slightly scratchy against her skin, but she had never felt more comfortable. Jughead’s lean body lay next to her, face buried in his own pillow, while his black hair fell carelessly, yet flawlessly around his face.  Betty rolled onto her side, a smile on her face as she watched him. Her heart was full as she recalled the words he spoke to her last night; a night that had gone from one of the most terrifying to one of the most electrifying of her life so quickly. She remembered the fear of finding him so battered, the anger as they fought and the… _love_ as they declared their devotion and belonging to each other. Her soul felt at peace with him, here in his old bed, in his old trailer, in this moment. It felt right.

Reaching out a hand Betty delicately pushed the black locks away from Jughead’s forehead and gently traced her fingers over the blue and purple hues of his black eye. It looked worse in the light of day and her brow creased as a frown formed on her face. Her stomach dropped as she thought of Jughead being jumped, _hit_ , by some Riverdale dick heads, though some relief did seep through her veins knowing he had been able to protect himself. Unfortunately another voice in her head wouldn’t let the matter rest, circling back to worry as she thought about why he needed to be so prepared to protect himself, that it wasn’t the first time he had needed to do so and he definitely wasn’t a stranger to a fight; his leather being as much of an indication as the occasional bruise or scrape she had seen on him in the past.

“Betty I can hear you thinking.”

The blonde startled as his rough morning voice interrupted her spiralling thoughts and pierced the silence.

“How long have you been awake?” Betty asked, a faint blush forming on her cheeks at being caught admiring him so intimately.

A smirk crept upon Jughead’s lips as his eyes opened and he propped himself up on his forearms.

“Long enough to conclude you have an unhealthy obsession with me.”

Betty rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her own lips at his teasing.

“Don’t flatter yourself Jones.”

“I don’t need to when I have you around to stroke my ego,” he replied teasingly rolling onto his own side and pulling her toward him with an arm secured around her waist.

Her breath hitched as his blue eyes bore into her own green. The colour was stunning and the proximity was dizzying and all Betty could do was bask in his embrace and this newfound bliss between them- a _real_ bliss. Shuffling further into his embrace she entwined her legs with Jughead’s and moved the hand on his face to cup his cheek while the other splayed across his chest.

“Big talk coming from a guy who needed me to nurse him back to health last night…” she quipped back, keeping her tone light and her gaze flirty.

Jughead let out a chuckle, the sound low and arousing causing her thighs to clench and a shiver to run down her spine. The arm slung over her waist started tracing lazy circles on her hip under his shirt that draped her body.

“Fortunately that’s a fantasy I don’t mind reliving Cooper. Maybe you could give me a sponge bath next?”

Betty couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from her throat in response, shaking her head as she gently pushed his shoulder so he was lying on his back before moving to straddle his hips.  

“In your dreams,” her blonde curls fell around them in a messy curtain as she leaned toward his lips.

“Always,” Jughead whispered as he closed the distance between them and caught her in a tender kiss. Pulling away and leaning her forehead against his Betty brushed the inky hair from his eyes and let out a contended sigh.

“What?” Jughead asked, pressing feather light kisses against her cheek and then travelling along her jaw line.

“I’m happy,” she breathed, dragging him into another kiss this one quickly morphing from a sweet caress of lips to a heated push and pull.

The force was bruising as her hands tugged on his hair, while his tongue traced her bottom lip before commanding its way into her mouth. Betty moaned at the sensations he was igniting within her, tongues tangled sensuously while his hands intimately slid up her waist to her ribcage.

Breaking away from her mouth and leaving her panting, Jughead moved his lips down her neck, biting and sucking to coax purple blemishes across the pale skin. Tilting her head to give him better access, Betty slowly began to rock her hips against his trying to find some friction and ease the tension building between her thighs.

Jughead smirked against her neck at the reaction and slid his hands further up to cup her breasts under her [his] shirt. Betty moaned as he squeezed them roughly before rubbing his thumbs across the pebbled peaks.

“Juggie,” she breathed, trying to gather her whits.

The boy in question hummed against her collar bone in reply before nipping at the flesh, not to be distracted from his ministrations. Betty gasped, and pressed her hips closer to bulge she could feel hardening beneath her, but used her grip in his hair to pull his head away nonetheless.

“Jug, we should stop…” she eventually articulated, though reluctantly.

Jughead looked up at her and raised a brow questioningly.

“Is that what you want?” he asked disbelievingly, punctuating his point with a slight thrust of his pelvis into hers.

Betty whimpered at the action.

“No, but you’re still hurt.” Her fingers trailed over his taught abdomen as she spoke the words softly, gently tracing the darkened blemish covering the majority of his side.

Jughead’s gaze softened at her concern. Covering her hand with his larger one he stilled her movements, before replacing it over his heart. His other hand moved to tuck her wild blonde tresses behind her ear.

“Betts I appreciate the concern, I do,” he began gently pressing his lips softly to her cheek.

“But?” she asked sensing her wasn’t done yet.

“But, I’d really like to make love to you now.” Her breath hitched at his words, tingles tripping down her spine and electricity sparked between them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jughead smiled before dipping his head to ravish the slope of her neck again.

“If we stay like this, I think I’ll manage,” he whispered hotly in her ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Letting her eyes fall shut, Betty wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began rocking her hips again showing him her willingness to comply.

Moaning appreciatively Jughead lowered his kisses across her collarbone, nipping the skin before soothing the irritated flesh with his tongue. Suddenly feeling much too hot in the singular piece of clothing that adorned her body, Betty gave his broad shoulders a gentle shove.

Jughead retreated from her skin, question dying on his tongue and gaze turning dangerously dark as she quickly pulled the shirt over her head settling herself firmly on his lap once more and seeking friction with renewed vigour.

Her lack of bra had his erection positively aching between her thighs, but the smirk that had formed on her lips was quickly transformed into a needy whine as Jughead’s mouth moved over the sensitive flesh of her breast, rolling his tongue over the peak.

Not one to be passive, one of Betty’s hands wound tightly in his hair holding him to her while the other roamed the strong expanse of his back, nails gently raking over the skin prompting appreciative groans from the boy beneath her.

Pulling back from her chest Jughead caught her swollen lips in a heated kiss once more. The clash of teeth and tongues usually translated to filthy promises but now somehow felt more sensual than ever; the raw passion transcending to an entirely new level of lust and want in the wake of heartfelt confessions.

His strong hands began to creep up her smooth thighs, avoiding where she needed him most.

“Jug,” Betty sighed, breathlessly. It was needy but she didn’t care. She needed him, she had accepted that, she needed him in every way and now she had no room left to be embarrassed.

“Do you want me to touch you baby?” He asked in her ear, the tone low and gravelly making her shiver with anticipation as her thighs clenched with arousal.

Betty nodded her head vigorously, shifting her hips to try and find his fingers.

“Ask nicely,” he teased, nipping the shell of her ear while his fingers danced across the lace trimming of her panties.

“Please!” the usually composed blonde panted out, a relieved moan leaving her ravished lips when his long fingers _finally_ slipped underneath the lace to taunt her wet centre.

Jughead groaned at the feeling of her arousal, so hot and wet and ready for him. The sounds she made as his fingers curled up inside her while his thumb played with her throbbing clit were practically driving him insane. All desperate whimpers and needy whines and he knew he would die happy as long as he got to make Betty Cooper make those noises for the rest of his life.

Her slender hands gripped his shoulders tightly as her head lulled with pleasure. She felt hot all over, as though her body was on fire and she was near combustion. His fingers never relented, keeping a devastating tempo that had her on the edge embarrassingly quickly. But just as Betty felt the blinding light of her peak begin to wash over her his hand retracted leaving her empty and aching.

Her eyes shot open and for a moment Jughead was paralysed by the stunning emerald of her eyes drowning in dark pools of lust and hunger. Betty opened her mouth to question why he stopped and beg him to continue- pride be damned- but sensing her coming line of protest Jughead shook his head and drew her up on her knees, hands skimming up to tug on her underwear. Realising his intention, Betty hurried to remove the blue lace, while Jughead hastily pulled down his boxers leaving no barriers between them.

As soon as the unwanted items were discarded to the floor, Betty gripped his impressive erection guiding it to her dripping entrance. Jughead hissed at the feeling and gripped her hips tightly, pulling her down on him.

They both moaned at the sensation of being connected. Betty began a delicious rhythm of lifting and dropping her hips over his, while Jughead’s grasp on her waist helped her go harder each time drawing low moans, and breathy sighs from each of their mouths. The feeling of him pulsing inside of her, filling her so perfectly was so overwhelming, and she could tell by the way he was sure to leave bruises on her skin, he was feeling the same.

Pushing her chest flush against his, Betty caught Jughead’s lips in a searing kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and toying with the hairs there. Feeling himself slowing losing control, Jughead angled her hips just so, to give himself leverage to reach that spot inside her that made her gasp in his mouth, her eyes clasp shut and her legs clutch his hips in a vice grip.

Betty began to pant into his mouth, their lips grazing against each other as he moved harder inside her, grazing that spot every time.

“Come on baby,” he breathed into her mouth as one hand reached between them to rub her clit in tight circles eliciting a sinful moan from her throat as stars exploded behind her eyelids and pleasure crashed over her in the mighty waves of her orgasm. Jughead groaned as her walls fluttered and clenched around him, drawing him over the edge and bringing his own finish rushing through him; a call of her name falling from his lips.

They continued to rock each other gently, riding out the waves of ecstasy until they couldn’t take any more. Wincing slightly as she lifted off of him, Betty collapsed beside him on the bed, in the same spot she had woken up in that morning.

Jughead’s arm was quick to pull her against his side, and she didn’t hesitate to rest her head against his chest, letting the steady thrum of his heart beat fill her ears and calm her soul.

They stayed like that for a while, her fingers lightly tracing the ridges of his stomach while his carded through her tangled blonde tresses, each content to revel in the other’s company for the time being.

Eventually Betty broke the comfortable silence, unable to quell the nagging voice in her head that obsessed over his wellbeing every time her fingers brushed against the dark, marred flesh of his side. He didn’t complain but she still noticed the subtle hitch in his breathing even after his heart rate slowed and the slight flinch or tightening of muscles when she pushed a little too hard against his skin.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Jughead almost wanted to laugh at the question. The ridiculous notion of her harming him when she felt so small tucked into his side like she was, causing him to bite his lip. But the tone of her voice was so delicate and small- vulnerable- and her eyes were so wide and caring when he glanced down at her, that he quickly sobered up.

Brining a hand to cup her cheek, Jughead looked her dead in the eye and spoke truthfully.

“I’ve never been more okay in my whole life Betty Cooper.”

 


End file.
